Shore Leave Stories
by KalosVice
Summary: Shepard and crew find love in the galaxy


The warning klaxon chimed as a sultry, drunken Shepard fumbled the keypad to her private apartment. "Shit!" She exclaimed, as she dizzily fought her failing eyesight as she thumbed the keys. Behind her, her lover; perhaps only for the evening, waited patiently behind her balancing his stance from one leg to the other.

"Having trouble Earth Clan?" The Volus smirked, half flirting/ half trying to hide his anticipation.

"I'm fine, just a little tipsy." Commander Shepard barked as she finally breached the door pad and stepped back. Her door receded open with a 'woosh' of negative pressure finally equalizing itself with the environment.

They staggered into her luxurious apartment; strewn with rubbish and empty glasses here and there. The dormant, sober side of her tried to bring forth the embarrassment of not cleaning up before a guest, but the handle of rye whiskey she consumed the hour before forced it into her subconscious.

They made their way to her kitchen as the Volus parked himself onto a stool. Shepard flicked the light on; luminescing the soft reflective curvature of his environmental suit. Alliance Navy or not; she never truly felt at one with her human counterparts. Sure, she'd been with men here and there but she was always left wanting something else. Something, she believed until recently that she would never fulfill. A primordial animal within her loins that would never be fed the sweet nectar of catharsis.

"Thank Christ the Normandy had to be retrofitted" she exclaimed, "I was starting to think I wouldn't ever get a good bone in me again."

The Volus leaned into the table, arms folded. She could tell he was interested, but the helmet strewn upon his face left much for the imagination.

"Earth Clan" he started, cycling breathing between phrases "I too am famished to the thought of intercourse. Shall we embark on this suicide mission together?"

Shepard laughed; having only met him a mere 30 minutes ago, she had not expected for him to catch onto her humor quite so quickly.

"Dear Volus, surly you have gained enough favor with me to last the night. Just don't try anything stupid."

He leaned in close; feet arched on top of his seat so he could meet her face at an equal level. "Then lets see what my Reaper can do"

Shepard grabbed him by his waist and threw him onto the kitchen counter. She straddled him as the sharp thud of his armor rested itself onto the cool granite.

Hands sweaty, she removed his cod piece. Formaldehyde scented streams of air bellowed from below the apparatus as she removed the metal frame revealing his hardened manhood; resembling that of a primate.

"Four shafts?!" She screamed, astonished at the size and complexity.

"Just a product of my upbringing Earth Clan" the Volus replied, his breathing intensifying as the sound of his suit purification system raised in mechanical pitch, laboring to bring in more air to compensate. "You will feel the true power of my species. I am a sexual god!"

Shepard pulled down her standard issue undergarments. Had she known she would've gotten laid tonight, she would've worn something aside from her normal CO uniform. But that time passed, both in hours and blood alcohol level.

She eased herself onto his penises, three intertwining like a loose sewing thread into her vaginal opening and one easing its way into her anal cavity.

She yelled in ecstasy, never feeling the build of pressure such as this. The Volus pinned his arms against the countertop and began to push into her, each time his legs swinging higher and higher into the air to compensate.

And so they danced. The dance of the damned. Sweat poured from her hands and genitals and garnished the exposed metal of his chest piece. The Volus repeated his actions upon her; plunging deeper and deeper into her lining.

"Oh my God!" Shepard gasped as a rush of fluid burst from her ender regions and soaked the Volus. He too grunted, as the sap-like, viscous orange sperm pushed into her body.

For a moment she collapsed on his chest, only able to register the sounds of his environmental suit sucking in oxygen and trace gases. Even in her drunken stupor she couldn't help but feel empathy for this being. In his time of most intimate pleasure, he still must rely on a machine to pump him full of the life giving cocktails and oxygen that his suit produced. Was he ever truly going to be free?

"Earth Clan, never in my life cycle have I ever-"

"SHEPARD!" yelled a petrified Garrus, emerging from her bedroom only now aware of their presence. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU WHORE?!"

Shepard sat motionless.


End file.
